I have to give credit to my friend Sam for giving me this idea, and ChrisKnight48 for the inspiration behind this. I will get you to write yet! haha I hope you all enjoy this!

Writer's block. These two words strike fear into the hearts of every writer in the world. For me, ever since I've been going out with Eli, writer's block has never been a problem. And neither, I thought, had it been for Eli either…but one day, he lost all ability to write.

You see, our English teacher likes to give us prompts so that we can improve our writing. That's all well and good, but when we have to write genres outside of our comfort zones, things start to get interesting. The prompt this week? Romance. The one genre that Eli cannot write to save his life? Romance.

"Clare I can't do this," he said to me, throwing his notebook and pen down on the table, passing his hands forcefully over his face.

I sighed and put my own writing aside. "Yes you can, Eli."

I watched him shake his head. "It's impossible. I just don't have a knack for writing romance. Romance is your forte, not mine."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Eli, you of all people should know that to be a great writer you have to push yourself past your limits, writing things even if you are uncertain about it, even if you don't think it's good. Push yourself. Just try."

He shook his head. "I can't do it. I have no inspiration whatsoever."

I shot him a disbelieving look at that, feeling my eyebrow scoop up. "Now why do I find that hard to believe?"

He smirked at me. "Clare, I can't write about what you and I do."

I shook my head. "You don't have to. Just use what we do as a platform for whatever you're going to write."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Impossible."

I sighed, knowing I was going to have to do something to give him inspiration. I got up quietly and crossed the room to him, silent as a mouse. Before he could open his eyes I sat down on his lap, straddling his hips. One of my hands fisted in his hair at the nape of his neck, the other tugged and played with the top of his shirt.

He opened his eyes and was about to say something when I shushed him. "I'm going to pry this story from you, even if I have to do it with my teeth." I felt him shudder beneath me. "Close your eyes. Imagine we're characters from your story." My hand played with his hair. "What can you feel?" I blew gently in his ear. "What are your senses telling you? Listen to your body, Eli.

"What does it feel like to have my hand playing with your hair? Can you feel it? Can you feel my fingers pulling at the roots, fisting in your dark locks, then letting go? How does my breath feel against your ear; your neck; your lips? Can you feel the heat of my body, pressed against yours intimately, sensually?"

I chuckled in his ear when I felt his jeans pull taunt. "What are you hearing? The sound of my voice? The sound of my heart beating? Can you hear me calling out your name already, deep in the throes of passion? How does it sound to your ears? Is it sweet? Erotic?"

My fingers ghosted over his eyelids. "What are you seeing? Are your eyes open? Closed? What pictures are being painted behind those dark eyelashes, eyelids? Are you picturing what I'm doing to you? Are you picturing me, scantily clad? What does it look like? Is it a definite picture? Or is it colors; shapes; symbols?"

They skimmed over his lips before pressing against them, further, into his wet mouth. "What do you taste? Me? What do I taste like? Explain it to me, Eli. Am I sweet, like cotton candy? Am I warm, like spiced rum? Fruity, like a strawberry daiquiri? Do you taste anything at all?"

I leaned down and nuzzled his ear. "Write it to me." I smirked and stood up, marching back to my own writing assignment. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, looking at me, incredulous. I smirked and bit my pen.

He nearly killed me for that. Remember the duct tape incident? What followed my help was a repeat of that…multiplied by twenty due to his newly inspired neediness. He was rough, but what can I say? He's mine.

Thanks to me, not that he'll ever admit it, Eli got an impressed nod from our teacher when he turned his paper in, though he never did show me what exactly it was that he wrote. I'm going to pry that information out of his hands if it kills me, I swear to it.

Oh, and before I leave, all of you aspiring writers, listen up! Keep writing and challenge yourself. Even if you write something completely horrible, it's a start, right? And you're on the path to becoming a great novelist! Besides, who knows where your inspiration will come from?

After all of these a winky face seems to be in order. Can't you see her winking after that last line? I can...here it is: ;]

Anyways, thank you all for reading this! I'm so glad you are all liking this story (however random it may be)! Oh, and I've not written the story about how good Eli is with his hands yet...but it's coming, don't worry!

Em =]